Don't Let Go
by sharkinterviewee
Summary: Jake is mortally wounded and Amy thinks this might be the last chance she has to tell him she loves him. 100% Peraltiago with a happy ending. A get together one shot that's a bit lengthy.


"I'll go. You stay and finish up here. I'll meet up with Collins, and I'll check in when I get there. Leaving you to finish both of our paperwork. I'm so jealous," Jake smiled at her. They were wrapping up some new leads in a drug dealing case, and Jake was dying of boredom from all of the reports they had to do in the last few hours. They were supposed to meet an informant in 45 minutes, but he was itching for an escape, so Amy let him go.

"Alright," she relented. "But I'm coming as soon as all of this," she motioned to stacks of paper piled on her desk, "Is finished. And I'll definitely be there on time, okay? And don't run off and get ice cream or anything." She was, of course, referring to last time when he was late for a meaning because he pulled over an ice cream truck under the guise of informing the driver he was speeding, the proceeded to buy some ice cream, bringing some back to the station for her. Jake's excuse was that he really was speeding, but she wasn't sure if she believed him. She ate it anyway.

"No, none of that. Cross my heart and hope to die. I'll text you as soon as I get there." And with that, he was on his way. Amy sighed and got comfortable in her chair for the next 10 minutes. She was glad to have some quiet time for herself, or as quiet as possible being in the precinct and all. Really, it was quiet every time Jake left. Lonelier too, but she tried to not let herself think about that. She tried not to think about the fact that every time he left, the room always felt like it was missing something, no matter where she was. She didn't like that. She told herself that Jake was great, and yeah, he definitely added to a room when he walked in, but he shouldn't create such an absence. She shouldn't feel that way about her partner. She wished that she would be fine when he was gone, but nothing about life ever felt whole when he was somewhere else. Somewhere not with her.

After 15 minutes, she began to think something was off. The regular meeting place for the CI was maybe 10 minutes away with traffic, just far enough away from the precinct to not arouse suspicion. She wrote it off as Jake stopping somewhere, or taking one of his stupid "short cuts" that were almost twice as long as the way she wanted to go.

At 20 minutes, she began to worry a bit. She knew that Jake could take care of himself, but she had a sinking feeling in her stomach that would not go away, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. She thought that he might have left his phone at the station, but when she called it, she heard nothing around her in response. Her second guess was that he spilled some sports drink on it that short circuited it, but that didn't explain why he wasn't answering his radio. She couldn't ignore her gut telling her that something was wrong. Something had happened. Something bad. She left half an hour after he did, more than half of the paperwork piles on her desk unfinished.

* * *

She pulled up to the parking lot of where their meeting was to take place and saw Jake's car with the lights still on. He was probably relaxing with the radio on too high to hear her call. She was furious that he had made her worry for nothing, and stomped up to driver's side ready to tear into him. But she stopped when she noticed the door was slightly ajar. Amy pulled the door open, and was surprised to find that the car was empty. The keys were still in and the engine was left running, something Jake would never do. His car was already bad off, so he wouldn't just leave the engine running for no good reason. She called his cell and heard the ring tone go off somewhere close, which gave her hope until she found the phone by the front wheel on the pavement. When she noticed the blood, she couldn't go on kidding herself that nothing had happened and that Jake was alright. He was in danger, and possibly injured.

She called over the radio to request for anything, backup, crime scene investigators, search dogs, whatever would help find Jake. She couldn't do this by herself.

Waiting for help to come was killing her, so she began looking for clues herself. It was getting dark out, and she wasn't sure how long the light would last, so she got out the biggest flashlight she could find. Nothing seemed to point where they would have taken him, and she began to lose hope. Amy spread out her search area from the epicenter of his car. After a hundred feet of nothing, she was close to sure that they had taken had stuffed him in a car or something and that searching out further wouldn't help one bit. That is, until, she caught a glimpse of liquid on the ground. Red liquid.

A few yards out she saw what might be a partial hand print in the liquid that she didn't want to name. It seemed that they were taking him towards one of the warehouses at the edge of the lot, an incredibly stupid move. She was thankful that whoever took Jake wasn't smart enough to think of a better place to take him. Unfortunately, there were three warehouses in the immediate vicinity. Amy looked for any more clues, but she couldn't find any. She was about to just pick one at random to search when she heard a shot ring out.

She felt like freaking out, but she knew she had to calm herself. She needed to be calm if she was going to help Jake. She had to concentrate. The shot had definitely come from her left, so she took off towards the left warehouse. She hoped against all hope that she wasn't too late.

The door to it had a chain that had been cut recently, so she didn't have to worry about finding a way in. The whole place was shrouded in darkness, so Amy busted out her flashlight rather than wasting precious time to find a light switch. When she took a step in, she almost slipped on the liquid on the ground. This time she could smell the overwhelming scent of iron. It was unmistakably blood. Oh god, there was so much blood. She didn't know how much- if any of it- was Jake's, but she couldn't waste time thinking about it. She had to find him.

Further into the space, she saw a body. Her breath hitched as she approached it, and sighed with relief when she saw it wasn't her partner. On closer inspection, it was their CI Collins collapsed on the floor. He didn't look like he was breathing, but she didn't even stop to check for a pulse. Jake was her first and only priority.

The beam of her flashlight fell upon some shoes, and she shined the light on a face that she didn't recognize, and the guy took off running toward the exit. Amy didn't try to chase after him.

"Jake! Jake!" she yelled, not even sure she would get a response. She didn't even care if there were more kidnappers that would be able to hear her. She raced down a hallway, only pausing when she heard a cough. Then another one. She followed it to a partially closed door which she kicked open with her gun pulled.

And there he was. Lying on the ground, leaning his back against a wall to support himself. She almost collapsed in relief, and flew to his side in a second. She dropped the flashlight, but it gave her enough light to see.

"Hey Ames," Jake greeted her hoarsely. "I knew you'd find me." Then he coughed again and fresh blood drops landed on the floor. His shirt was so soaked in the stuff it was impossible to tell where his injuries were.

"Where are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. There are two guys out there. One of them is our informant. They could be back at any moment," he warned her. She assured him that they were both taken care of and asked where he was injured again.

"Um, maybe stabbed a bit, only once or twice. Shot near my hip, but it's kinda numb, so not too bad. Bleeding a lot there. And my shoulder is killing me," he looked to his left shoulder and for the first time she noticed the knife sticking out of it. "Could you help me get it out? It actually kinda hurts." After all that had happened, he was still smiling at her, which she knew was purely for her benefit.

"No. If it tore through any of your blood vessels, its the only thing keeping you from bleeding out," she ripped open his shirt and placed her hands over his stab wounds to staunch the flow of blood, while his hands were still trying to apply a feeble amount of pressure to his bullet wound.

"Little late for that," Jake laughed weakly. "I think it's already happening. Might as well, y'know?"

"Shut up," she ordered. "You are not dying."

"You are so bossy," he joked. She hated that. She hated that he was lying on the ground, covered in blood, definitely not dying, and he was still trying to make her feel better. She didn't know what to say to make him feel better, but she made an attempt anyway.

"An ambulance is coming to get you," Amy told him, glad she had her cell on her when she texted back to the station when she heard the shot. "It's gonna be alright. It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." She repeated it like a mantra, at least a little bit for her own benefit.

"I'm getting kinda tired. Just... do me a favor. Don't leave." She wished he knew he didn't have to ask her that. And for the first time in the whole ordeal, she started crying, which soon blossomed into sobbing.

"I'm not gonna go. I promise. Jake, Jake, look at me." She could barely even understand the words that were coming out of her mouth as they were woven in between sobs. "Stay awake, Jake. Please. Please don't go. Please don't go."

Amy's voice began to fade, but Jake didn't care. He saw more flashes of light, but he didn't care. His vision was turning black, but he didn't care. He just focused on Amy's hand on his, and knew that that was the only thing he needed. He thought that Amy's hand was a good last thing to feel.

* * *

Jake came into consciousness for a moment on the ambulance ride. Amy was beside him covered in blood. He was actually worried she was hurt until he remembered that it was his blood. He was the injured one. She was still holding his hand.

"Don't let go," he whispered.

"I won't. Jake. Don't go. Please don't leave me. Promise me you won't go." In the process of her begging him, an EMT slipped an oxygen mask onto him and he passed out again. Amy didn't even know if he heard her at all.

* * *

He woke up once more as he was being whisked through a hospital hallway. He could see Amy at the end of the hallway, yelling at a doctor who was holding her back. "I have to go with him! I told him I would stay!"

When the nurses noticed he was awake, they asked him to count backwards from 10 as they placed a different mask on his face. He began counting, still trying to catch a glance of Amy after the hallway doors closed. He didn't even make it to 9.

* * *

The whole team was waiting in the lobby when the doctor came out to say he had pulled through surgery. There was a sigh of relief until the questions started pouring in, asking if Jake was awake and if they could see him. They were informed that he would still be unconscious for a while, and that only family could see him.

"You his wife?" She asked Amy. Whether it was how destroyed Amy looked, or that she was the first one to rush to the doctor for information, or some other reason, she assumed that Jake was her husband.

"He's my partner," Amy answered, purposely making it sound like a confirmation. For once she was glad that the words could be used interchangeably. If the doctor didn't believe her, she was just going to lie anyway and say that she was in fact his wife. But she did take Amy's answer as a yes, so she was lead back to Jake's room, the rest of the team let her go.

* * *

When Jake woke up, he heard the steady beat of a heart monitor. It took him a couple of minutes for him to realize that the heart rate being measured was his. The hospital room was way too bright for his eyes, and he had no idea how long he had been out. He looked to the corner of the room to see Amy curled in what appeared to be an impossibly uncomfy chair.

He tried to say her name to wake her up, but it came out as barely a whisper. He hoped he hadn't damaged his vocal cords irreparably. When he tried again he was a little louder, so he assumed it was just that they were out of use. Damn, how long had he been out?

He looked around for something to throw at her when his eyes landed on a note pad with several pens on top of it. He ripped out a page, crumpled it up, and threw it, immediately regretting his decision. He didn't use the arm attached to his hurt shoulder much, but it seemed like every part of his body was in pain. When the paper hit her, she stirred a little and mumbled something, but she still didn't wake up. He considered throwing another piece, but thought he would save himself the extra pain and move on straight to the pens. He threw two this time, and hissed when they left his hands and the pain signals from the action reached his brain. Amy sat up with a start and looked around, practically falling out of the chair in the process. When her eyes landed on Jake, awake and smiling, she smiled too. But then he started to frown.

"You're all bloody," he said, referring to the stains on her shirt that were long dried by now. She looked down as if she had forgot what he was talking about.

"It's all yours," she said, as if that was a proper answer for why she hadn't gone home and changed while he was unconscious. He was immensely glad that she was there when he woke up, but she didn't look too good herself.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, and she bit her lip instead of responding. "How long have I been out?" He rephrased.

"Three days."

He could tell that his mouth was hanging open, so he went through the trouble of shutting and keeping it shut. She didn't have to stay here. He didn't have words for how glad he was to see her, but he was still worried. Jake supposed he shouldn't be surprised, they were partners after all, but something about staying in the hospital for three days straight in the hospital meant something a little more than partnership could explain.

"You didn't have to stay here," he told her, not wanting her to feel obligated. "I'm not gonna remember any of this."

She threw him a questioning look.

"I've had surgery before. You never remember anything after you wake up from all the drugs they give you. Even if you're talking like normal. I've got the home videos to prove it. So you didn't have to stay. I never would've known if you hadn't." At the look of her crestfallen face, he knew he had said the wrong thing. "I'm glad you did, though," he added.

Amy smiled a bit at that and walked over towards him and sat in a chair beside his bed.

"You feeling okay?" she asked tentatively.

"Just awful. Everything hurts. Even stuff that shouldn't hurt hurts. Like my toes. And my teeth. Did I knock out any teeth? I don't remember doing that. Even my eye lids hurt when I blink." He opened his mouth for her too peer into to see if he lost any teeth.

"Nope, all 32 still there." He made a move that he was going to feel around to check himself, but the sudden jolt of pain got the best of him.

"You okay?" Jake asked, and she laughed. "What? What's so funny?" He looked around as if he had missed some hidden joke.

"You almost died, and you're asking me if I'm okay. You were doing that too, when I found you. Trying to make me feel better," she had lost her good mood when she brought up the memory. "Do you remember anything? About what happened?"

He thought for a moment. "You. Your voice. And your hand. You telling me it was gonna be okay. That was nice. Thanks for that."

She smiled at him sweetly.

"It was Collins. He contacted the drug dealer, then lured you out of the car. They broke you nose," then she made a move to swat at his hand that moved up to touch his still very broken nose. "Don't touch it. It'll hurt. Anyways, I followed the blood trail to the warehouses until I heard you get shot. The CI's dead. He pulled a knife, which you turned on him and got one of his major arteries. You were shot, the dragged to the room where the other guy tried to finish you off, but he ran when he saw me. We got him. He's locked up right now, so you don't have to worry."

Jake didn't tell her that he wasn't worried one bit. About himself, at least.

His eyes widened as if he had a brilliant idea. "Can you get me those pens and that note pad? I need to write something." Amy followed his orders and offered to write it for him, but he insisted that it had to be in his handwriting. He scribbled something on the paper, then showed it to her. It read:

 _Present Jake_

 _Time travel is real. I left something important for you in the drawer. Godspeed._

 _\- Future Jake_

She scoffed. "Is that really gonna trick you?"

"No, but I'll believe it for a hot second, especially with all these pain killers I'm hooked up to. Besides, that's what this is for." He said, holding out the second note she hadn't noticed him writing.

 _Sucka! You just got owned by past Jake!_

 _\- sincerely, Jake Peralta_

She couldn't do anything but laugh at him. And he just smiled at her, because of her. She was his only reason to be smiling.

"You should go home," he told her, sobering up. "You should change, and actually sleep in a bed. I can't imagine that chair over there is comfortable. Seriously, you don't need to stay. I'm fine." He felt bad that she was still in the hospital because of him. Still soaked in his blood. He knew without a doubt that he would have done the same for her, but he didn't need to tell her that. If the situations were reversed, there would be no way to get him to get him to leave her side for a second. But he was the hurt one and she was the worried one, so he didn't need to bring up his hypocritical nature.

"I don't want to. You're finally awake. I've been waiting for you to wake up for three days."

"Why? Why'd you stay so long?" He realized how stupid his question was the moment it left his mouth, but he made no effort to take it back. Maybe it was the fact that he was hopped up on painkillers, but he didn't feel like trying to maintain the homeostasis of their relationship any longer. Without a beat she answered him.

"Because I love you." Amy didn't really think before she said it, but she knew it was the right thing to say. She had to tell him. She tucked her hair behind her ears and waited wide eyed for his response. She didn't know if she should smile or not, but she could feel the corners of her lips turning up just a bit.

Jake faltered at that. "I, uh, love you too," he said, taking her words the wrong way. He assumed that she was saying that cause he almost died, and that she meant as a friend or a family member, or just in an 'I don't want you to die before you know I care about you' love you sort of way. But he was wrong.

She wasn't sure how she should explain it, but settled on winging it. "No, I love you. Really love you. _Love you_ love you. In love. With you." She didn't know how she could make it anymore clear than that. Amy hadn't planned on telling Jake that she was in love with him, because even though the words were nearly the same, it seemed much more significant than just saying she loved him. But above all else, she needed him to understand. Even though her words made her feel vulnerable, she just needed Jake to _know_.

Some beeping came to the forefront of Amy's mind, even though she had basically blocked out all of the hospital sounds by now. She looked around and realized that Jake's EKG had sped up, bringing the noise back to her attention. That was a good sign, right? If it had to do with her confession, that is.

She looked back to Jake and saw him try to sit up, but he soon fell back against his bed, clutching his side. "Damndamndamndamndamndamndamndamndamn," he let out. When he noticed she had raced to his side, he offered an explanation. "I think I just popped a few stitches. Did I even get stitches?" he broke off in a tangent, then shouted, "Goddamn, that hurts!"

Luckily there was a button attached to the hospital bed to call the nurse, because only a moment after pressing it a nurse walked in and Amy explained the situation in between reminding her partner to take deep breaths, and him whining that it was painful. His IV was then filled with some sort of painkiller that would put him out soon enough, so Jake sobered up before he fell under.

"Amy? I need you to tell me that when I'm forming memories. I really need to do something about that, but it hurts too much to think right now. Please tell me." His eyelids were already starting to close, but he blinked a couple of times in an effort to keep them open, each blink getting slower than the last. She assured him she would just before being ushered out of the room because it was obvious he was trying to stay awake for her. She went home after being assured the staff would call her as soon as he woke up.

* * *

It was almost 10 hours later when the hospital notified her that Jake had woken up. Amy had freshened up since her departure, dressed in a new change of clothes after a nice long shower. She wasn't sure if her hands were still red from blood stains, or just from how hard she scrubbed to get them off. She shrugged it off and made her way back to the hospital.

She walked into Jake's room to see him pouting like a 3rd grader, a spectacular sight.

"Now what's gotten you in such a bad mood? Did they cut you off from the jello supply?" Amy teased. Jake looked happy to see her, or at least happy to have someone to complain to.

"I hate past Jake. He's the worst. Always drinking too much, and spending money on massage chairs, and just screwing me over so he can have some fun. I just checked and have been guaranteed that my current painkillers won't screw over my memory, and are effectively past Jake proof." He held up the notes from himself as proof, that he didn't know she didn't need. He was still using his pouty voice, but wasn't trying to hide his smile from her.

"If I had known it would have bothered you this much, I wouldn't have let you write it," Amy laughed. She took a seat beside him as he gave her a curious look.

"I didn't know you were here earlier." He peered at her, giving her a once over. "You alright?"

"I'm glad you're gonna remember everything now, because we do not need to have this conversation again. I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me, I get to worry about you this time. Now, are _you_ alright?" She rolled her eyes to signal that all was good and she wasn't really bothered. Truth be told, she would be glad to have the same conversation with Jake a thousand times over. How ever many times it took, just as long as she got to spend time with him.

"Just dandy. And I'll have you know, the jello cups are _unlimited_ ," he emphasized the last word as if it was the answer to the meaning of life. Jake offered her a strawberry flavored one, and she accepted it. She took a bite not noticing the way he was watching her, almost expectantly.

The silence was surprisingly comfortable, but he was waiting for her to say something.

"Do you have something to tell me?" he asked, and Amy nearly choked on the bite she was in mid swallow of.

"I thought you couldn't remember?" She said suspiciously. She was trying to work up the courage to say it to him, but it was taking her longer than she had thought. She was worried she wouldn't be able to make herself say it that day. And if she didn't get to it today, she wasn't sure when she would. Amy was trying to figure out a way to own up to her feelings, but it looks like she didn't have to anymore.

"I don't. Past Jake wrote another note. Or dictated it, more likely," he showed her a note that was written in fancy looping cursive that was decidedly not his handwriting.

 _Amy needs to tell you something. Don't let her go_

 _– Past Jake_

"I don't know if it just cuts of or something after go. I'll have to see which nurse helped write it." Amy didn't say anything, just held the note. She didn't tell him that the last sentence was a complete thought. She didn't tell him what it meant. She didn't say anything.

"Is it another joke?" Jake asked carefully, and sounded almost disappointed. He took her silence as a yes. "I'm gonna kill past me. If time travel is ever invented I'm gonna-"

"No. It's not a joke," she interrupted him. He stopped and stared at her, letting her continue. She didn't meet his gaze, just kept reading the note. "I just... needed to tell you that... I'm kinda sorta maybe in love with you." She finally met his cautious eyes.

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better because I almost died?" His expression was guarded as he tried to figure out her motivation.

"You almost dying just made me realize I needed to say it sooner than I was planning on." Jake's expression was damn near close to awestruck, but it seemed his voice had left him. She remembered his promise earlier about how he was going to do something, but apparently he needed a little prodding. "How about you?"

"I think I've made my feelings pretty clear," he said with a hint of embarrassment. Amy never thought she'd see the day that Peralta was flustered, especially not because of her.

"Have you?" She challenged. He was right, he had made it abundantly clear that he liked her. But she felt the burning need for a little bit more of a conformation.

"You know I do," he told her, still beating around the bush. The most adorable flush she had ever seen creeped across his cheeks. His eyes were flitting around the room, every couple seconds or so checking back on her to gauge her reaction.

"Say it."

"I love you, Amy." He met her eyes this time, and she smiled. Slowly he began to smile too.

"Anything else you have to tell me?" Jake raised his eyebrows suggestively, breaking the mood. Something so like him to do.

"No. Well... If anyone asks, I'm your wife," she tried not to make a big deal hoping that he would just leave it alone, but of course it was hopeless.

He gasped. "Are you proposing to me?" He placed his hands over his heart like the most dramatic actor in a romantic comedy.

"Shut up. They wouldn't let me in the first day other wise," Amy rolled her eyes.

"Jake Santiago. I like the sound of that. We'll have to choose a date. How does March sound to you?" he rambled dreamily. "I'll be the most beautiful bride you've ever seen. Do you think I can pull off a corset? Should we get chocolate cake, or vanilla? Or both?"

"I know where all your wounds are," she threatened, poising her fingers for strike. He hissed at her and she let out a good, long laugh. They were both grinning like idiots.

"Now what?" Jake asked, serious again. For the moment, at least.

"Just... here," she told him scooting a chair up beside his bed that she sat down in, then grabbed his hand and laid her head on his good shoulder. They relaxed into each other almost instantly. Jake kissed the top of her head, and Amy sighed, finally and truly content.

* * *

 **AN: Promised this would be up by tomorrow, but since I can't sleep, it's going up now :)**

 **Sorry it was a bit long. I guess I could have sectioned it off into chapters, but it would still be very much a one shot, and there weren't a lot of good breaking points, so please forgive me!**

 **I have a feeling it was pretty obvious how emotional I was trying to make it, but you'll have to let me know if I succeeded. This is just something I had in my head the past few days. I got a little emotional myself writing it, but I'm just a sucker for the dramatic. So I would love to hear your thoughts, and if it made you just the teensiest bit sad or happy. Thanks for reading :)**


End file.
